So, you didn't necessarily ask for it, but I'm giving it to you anyway. So, I present to you When Our Lights Flicker, the backstory between the original Brafez Rasputin and his adoptive sister Welsha Pierre. I shall be following these two from ages 8 and 12, to 11 and 15, and from there I shall go into the creation of Welsha's hatred against the cloned BR. Do note that the original dies in the end, so, not really spoiler alert. You would have to have read Gods Among Us, A Rwby Fanfiction beforehand. So, be warned. Also, shameless Rooster Teeth casting inbound. These chapters won't be as long as the main story, mostly because I'm at a lack for details. So maybe I shouldn't be publishing these, but, fuck it. All right, now with that out of the way, let us start the story.
But first, something in Latin.
"Os iusti meditabitur sapientium. Et lingua eius loquetur indieium. Beatus vir qui suffert tentationem. Quoniqmcum probates fuerit accipient coronam vitae. Kyrie, ignis, divine, eleison."
"The mouth of the just shall meditate wisdom. And his language shall be clear. Blessed is he who suffers temptation, since he, with striving, shall receive the crown of life. Lord, fire divine, have mercy."
START OF PROLOGUE
Somewhere...
He was still. Everything was still. The only thing that moved were the snowflakes. He was on a cliff, overlooking a castle. He looked behind himself at the woman in white. She was calling his name. He shook his head and looked forward, seeing a black mist. Inside was a cloaked figure, black fire leaping from its shoulders.
The figure was beckoning him, calling to him.
Its pull was irresistible and persistent.
It wouldn't be long until he could let go...
The Dragon Continent, four miles out from the nearest village...
An eight year old Brafez Rasputin pulled his axe head from a Major Beowulf's neck, his right sleeve reduced to shreds. The dead Grimm had not been an easy fight. Considering the Wulf was over a century old, that had been expected. The injuries he received were as well. A long gash ran down his bicep, and there was blood in his hair: whether it belonged to himself or the pack leader, he knew not. And yet, considering the wound, he felt merely a slight tingle.
It did not matter. He turned to the rest of the pack, numbering in the hundreds.
Resting Fenrir's handle on his shoulder, Brafez stood, silent. Then he spoke. "Leave while you can. If you do not, I will murder your pups and females. Then I will come after you. I address you now as equals, because I believe that perhaps one of you shall understand. I did not wish to harm you, no, far from it. Yet, I had to set an example. So, these are your choices: stay and be slaughtered, or run and live to torment my kind later on."
After a few tense minutes the pack's second in command uttered a harsh bark, with the teeming crowd retreating into the woods. Brafez sighed, kneeling and resting his forehead against the smooth birch handle of Fenrir. He trudged over to the corpse of the Major Beowulf, leaning down to look it in its dim eyes. It was still alive, yet barely.
"Cogito ergo sum." The Grimm croaked, with Brafez nodding his head. A few seconds later the Grimm died, blowing away with the wind.
"I think, therefore I am. Goodbye." He took a knee, holding Fenrir before him.
"Forgive me, Atlas, for I have sinned. Taken a life from another, I do pray they shall be welcomed by the goddess of the hunt. May they stalk the fields of Forevermore, the eternal hunting grounds, in peace ever-lasting. Amen." Brafez stood, returning Fenrir to the spot on his back and walking into the forest, his rust-colored eyes shimmering with tears.
It was the same every time.
Brafez sighed as the villagers clapped their hands in appreciation for the young exterminator. They didn't- couldn't understand his pain. Not many did. Even his sister Welsha barely understood him. How could they? He was a monster fighting monsters. No pain, except for in his head and his heart. It wasn't always like this. In the beginning, he had been very gung ho about killing Grimm, almost to the point of insanity.
He walked, resting Fenrir on his shoulder, up the beaten path to where the bullhead waited for him. He clambered aboard, resting his head against the back of his seat. They were still clapping. Although he abhorred the sound, Brafez grit his teeth in concealed frustration, muting the noise. It was all he could do to bear it.
Once the bullhead took off, he listened to the wind for comfort. Brafez would not find any. When he opened his eyes he saw a small figure in the distance, wreathed in black mist. The sight sent shivers down his spine. The being felt ancient and powerful, and it called to him with a dead song. A dark orb hung behind the figure, and whenever Brafez looked at it, he felt his eyelids grow heavy.
He was grateful once the figure was out of sight.
Welsha eased the door open, peering inside the Seventh Column's office. They were a subsection of the Sect, tasked with taking out big-risk targets, Grimm, or if need be, otherwise. The Seventh Column was lead by two individuals, Leonard Church, and Allison Texas. They were children of Great War veterans, and childhood friends.
Teenagers dressed in various different colored clothing made their way through a busy hallway, none of them noticing the opened door. The purple-haired girl smiled and gestured with her fingers at a wall out of sight, a small portal opening up. She put one against the floor and fell through it, rolling as she hit the floor.
She was in a room connected to the hallway, books stacked high, almost as tall as herself. A boy in grey clothing was reading one, the title long and fancy-looking. That wasn't what she was here for though. Welsha quickly scanned the titles in front of her, before finding one that caught her interest. She inched her fingers into the cracks and pulled back, forgetting about gravity for a second as the books on top of the one she had grabbed came tumbling down. She teleported away before she could be injured, ending up in the hallway outside.
Freedom was just a few feet away. All she had to do was make a portal outside and jump through-
"Well, what have we got here?" Welsha winced and turned around to find a woman looking over her. She wore all black and had blonde hair cut short. She gave off an aura of strength, and that she was one not to be fucked with. "Hey Church! Looks like we got ourselves a thief!"
Out of a doorway stepped a man in blue clothes, a small beard growing on his face, outlining his green eyes. A pair of glasses clung to the bridge of his nose, dark brown hair almost hampering his vision. He looked at the woman in black and sighed, walking over to them. "Tex, what have I told- Oh. Hello there." He said when he finally noticed the girl on the ground.
"H-Hi." Welsha responded hesitantly, trying to hide the stolen book with her body.
"What book were you trying to steal?"
"Axe. I was going to give it back."
"Right. Give it here." Tex held out her hand, with Welsha sighing and giving her the book. "What's your name kid?"
"Welsha Pierre." She said, standing up and brushing the dirt off her pants. The two nodded and walked away, leaving Welsha alone for a minute.
"That's Rasputin's sister, right?" Tex muttered to Church, once they were out of earshot.
"Yeah. You think we should let her in?" Tex shrugged in response, throwing the book to Washington as he exited the library. "Tex."
"Why are you looking at me? It's her decision, not mine." The blonde retorted, gesturing to the now-absent Welsha. "Wait...where'd she go?"
"Shit."
As the bullhead descended, Brafez watched the snow fall. It snowed regularly at Inverness, which was a given since they were so high up in the mountains. Being in Atlas certainly didn't help. He looked down at the landing pad and saw a familiar bundle of purple hair, running towards him. A small smile met his face before he saw the Sect's leader awaiting him, after which the smile was replaced with a scowl. Brafez hated him, and everything about him. The way he dismissed civilian casualties, the way he was so nonchalant about death of any kind infuriated Brafez to no end.
However, he was still his boss, and while Brafez didn't like it, he had to live with it. He forced a fake smile as the bullhead bumped against the ground, Brafez departing. The Sect's leader walked up to him, holding out his hand. Without a second thought Brafez put his hand against the leader's with practiced ease. It was second-nature by this point.
As the leader left, Welsha rushed over to him and hugged him tightly. It was what he needed after missions. Not everyone enjoyed killing Grimm, and he had it the worst. This time his face bore a genuine smile as he hugged her back.
"Hey brother, how you doing?" Welsha asked, pulling back slightly to let him breathe.
"Same shit different day. There were a few pups with them, so I managed to get them to leave." Brafez replied, shrugging slightly. He looked past her, seeing two individuals running towards them. "Who're they?"
"Oh, them? Just a few-" He shook his head as they got closer, giving him a clearer view.
"I know who they are now. Why are they after you?"
"I...might have tried to steal a book." His sister sheepishly admitted.
"Oh yeah? Which one?"
"Axe. My bad."
"Really Welsh? I would have just given you my copy."
"But...it's more fun stealing!" Welsha declared, making Brafez sigh and smile at her. Some things never changed. The two approaching people stopped just in front of them, Brafez eyeing them with disdain. It wasn't that he didn't like Tex and Church, it was just that they shared different views on the hunting of Grimm. Brafez hated it, and the Seventh Column was too gung-ho about it for his liking, which was why he refused to join when they offered him a spot.
"Hello Brafez. Another successful mission?" Tex inquired.
"Yeah. You could say that. Welsh, Tex, Church, I'll be seeing you later." Brafez said coldly, walking away and into Inverness. The three watched him go before Tex turned to Welsha.
"Say, how would you feel about joining the Seventh Column?"
"I'm not sure how Brafez would-"
"I'm fine with it." Brafez said through the walkie-talkie on her hip. She looked down at the device in surprise, but quickly regained her composure and nodded her head.
"So, you'll join?"
"Yes. I like the color purple."
"Oh boy, South is going to have a hissy-fit over that." Tex muttered under her breath, walking with Church and Welsha in tow. They did not feel an eye on them, but it was there nonetheless. Brafez felt his hair stand up, but he dismissed it.
Nothing got inside the Sect's shielding. Right?
The white figure watched the boy go, and saw the eye on him. She sighed and vanished, merely a breeze on the wind.
END OF PROLOGUE
A.N. As you can see, these chapters are much shorter than my main story. Whether this is a product of not being able to think up the gaps to fill, or if I'm just not giving my all, this is for you to decide. I'll post these two a week, on Tuesday and Thursday.